Roleplaying
by yumi michiyo
Summary: Anna loves role playing and taking charge. For a change, Elsa takes over both parts, with unexpected results. PWP. Oneshot. Rated for smutty content and attempted seduction.


**Author's Note:** Smutty fic in which Elsa and Anna aren't related and enjoy role-playing; for a change, Elsa takes over. For the record, this started out as a tiny drabble. I blame** 4mation**.

* * *

Elsa's been practicing, but she's still nervous for the big night.

Anna loves roleplaying, and her lover's always happy to play along; but lately she's been too caught up with work with virtually no time to come up with new situations.

In any case, it's usually Anna in charge; Anna the doctor doing everything to heal her patient, Anna the experienced prostitute taking charge of her patron's first time, Anna the prince who's captured the Snow Queen...

Although she'll never admit it, Elsa would like to try something new. Where she's in charge.

So that's where her inner stripper (and she had to dig very, _very_ deep) comes in – or to be precise, out.

Wanting to take the redhead's mind off work for one night, Elsa's been secretly preparing a surprise – starting with forum posts from the chatroom she found online; users share their fantasies in lurid detail, making the blonde girl blush vividly as she browsed through for inspiration.

And then she stumbles on the user profile of someone called FiestyPants – who has a thing for scantily-clad, leather-wearing mistresses. It's surprisingly hot; Elsa finds herself crossing and uncrossing her legs as she scrolls down the page.

"Good God," she mutters, red in the face. "That's... _creative_."

Of course, she's completely mortified (and just a little horrified), but she's willing to try anything once to put the smile back on her lover's face. Especially something she (and her body) finds this arousing.

"It'll be fun," she tells herself as she places her order online.

* * *

And so, this Friday night finds Elsa standing in front of the wardrobe mirror, pulling on the leather ensemble that came in the mail two days prior (she told Anna the box contained art supplies for her work).

"Damn," says Elsa, wrinkling her nose as she yanks one kitten-heeled boot on, gasping at how it clings to her skin. "I can't believe I'm doing this." But she likes what she sees in the mirror; that hot blonde with the rounded ass and clinging leather boots that leave nothing to the imagination –

If she were into selfcest, she would go for it. The blonde shakes off the thought.

On go the gloves, and she literally has trouble breathing; her chest strains at the leather bodice as though making a bid for freedom. Finally, she finishes the look with stripper-red lipstick, mascara, and lets her hair down.

Elsa checks her reflection in the full-length mirror, and blushes. "Perfect," she says.

* * *

Anna's due home any moment, and Elsa is quickly losing her nerve. Curled up on the couch, she's run over FiestyPants' fantasy a hundred times already, making sure she hasn't missed anything.

The slightest noise makes her jump.

And then the key clicks in the lock; Anna comes in, looking tired. She drops her bag on the floor. "Elsa? I'm home."

"Hi there," says Elsa, trying her best to keep in character; the seductive purr she spent fifteen minutes working on comes out a little shaky. But it's still a seductive purr, nonetheless. "I've been waiting for you."

"H – hi, me?" squeaks Anna, turning crimson as her eyes travel over her girlfriend's body; taking in the leather boots, the barely-there panties (_God, any cow would _kill_ to be made into something _that_ sinfully tight_, she thinks), the tight bodice, and finally the smouldering look on Elsa's face – _wait, what?_ "Uh… Elsa? What're you doing – eek!"

Elsa's glided over from the sofa, her hands coming to rest on Anna's hips. "You look hot," she growls, "let's get you out of those clothes…" A black-gloved hand accidentally-on-purpose brushes Anna's chest, and she shivers.

"Oh," says Anna, a slow grin spreading across her face. "_Oh_. I mean – oh yes! It's just so hot today!" The younger girl shrugs off her jacket and flings it across the room; there's a tinkling sound of something falling but they both determinedly ignore it.

Elsa grabs Anna's chin and pulls her close for a searing kiss; she nibbles the younger woman's lower lip in that irritatingly leisurely fashion she knows drives her wild. Anna gasps and slides her hands over the leather bodice, fingers tangling in the laces. "You look amazing," whispers Anna into Elsa's ear, biting down on the earlobe to punctuate her words. "What's the occasion?"

"No reason," breathes Elsa, her fingers tangling and untangling in Anna's hair, pulling auburn strands out of their bun. "You've been such a good girl."

With a smirk to match Elsa's, Anna straddles the leather-clad body. The blonde makes an involuntary squeak of protest, surprised out of character.

"Anna! What are you – uh, I mean..." Her voice drops an octave back into her sultry stripper-tone. "What are you doing?"

"What am _I_ doing?" echoes Anna with just a touch of playfulness, her fingers already making short work of the laces on her sister's clothes. "I've been a good girl, you said, so I've just come home to find this _gorgeous_ stripper waiting for me and I'm just unwrapping my," she pauses to lick her lips, "_present_."

Elsa tries very hard not to succumb – I'm_ supposed to be in charge, damnit!_ "H – hey, I'm supposed to be on top – " But she's a moment too late; Anna's pulled the bodice off and is admiring her bared chest. She leans over. "On top? Really now?" Her hot breath tickles the soft skin; Elsa sighs. "Dominate me, then."

"I'm – trying, but you're just – so goddamn – " Whatever Anna is, it's quickly lost in moans as the redhead starts licking the firm nipple of one breast, her fingers expertly teasing the other. "Didn't quite catch that," says Anna very matter-of-factly, kissing Elsa's chest again and again. Her tongue begins to slide down her torso, gliding over her ribcage and stomach.

Elsa makes another effort. It's quite a good one; she manages to push Anna off, reversing their positions. But she's already naked from the waist up and quite aroused, while her lover is smirking like the cat that got the canary.

"Naughty, naughty," says Elsa. "You don't get to be in charge. _I_ do. And now I have to punish you."

"Really?" Anna sounds more interested than scared, and the older girl nearly pouts in frustration. _Nearly_.

"Really," she confirms, putting on the sexy smoulder again. Elsa yanks up Anna's skirt forcefully, earning a yelp of surprise – and almost yelps herself.

She isn't wearing any panties.

"I saw you practicing for today," says Anna's voice from somewhere above, her voice shaking with suppressed mirth, "and thought I'd save you the trouble of having to rip them off…"

Elsa could deflate and admit defeat. But she soldiers on, running a hot tongue up silky inner thighs, flicking it in an act of petulance. Anna's voice trails off in a low moan that fills Elsa's skimpy thong with fresh wetness.

"You like that, don't you?" demands the blonde girl. "You naughty little minx." She punctuates her sentence with a nip, and Anna's hips jerk. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Nnnh…" She trails off into a whimper.

Elsa's encouraged now. She peels off a glove with excruciating slowness, making sure Anna's eyes follow every movement, while continuing to lap at her inner thighs. Her tongue is still nowhere near her very wet centre. "Damn it, Elsa – " The older girl stifles a giggle at the palpable frustration in her voice. She's in control for once, and she understands why Anna loves to torment her; it's incredibly arousing to hear the raw need in her lover's voice.

She acquiesces. "Shh," murmurs Elsa. Her fingers trace patterns on the heated flesh. "You're practically dripping and I haven't even put a finger in." Elsa grinds her damp, leather-covered crotch against Anna's thigh.

Her reply is a snarl, charged with frustration and desperate _need_.

All the older girl can think of is the incredibly hot sounds Anna's making, and the frustrated jerking of her hips in an attempt to find release.

Elsa's fingers start fumbling with the buttons of Anna's shirt. From the way her nipples strain at the fabric, it's obvious she hasn't bothered with underwear at all. Elsa grins, delighted in spite of the hot flush spreading up her neck and face. "No bra either? You shameless girl. Wasn't it cold at the office today?"

Anna starts to growl a comeback, but it quickly becomes a moan when a hot tongue licks the firm nipples through the shirt. Her hands cup Elsa's butt, her thumbs hooking on the panties and pulling.

Elsa jerks as nimble fingers work under the tight leather and start to tease the area between her legs. "A – Anna!"

The woman underneath her is flushed and panting, her eyes hazy with desire. But she manages to smirk as her index finger makes languorous strokes over the blonde woman's inner thighs. "Soaked," she informs Elsa, holding up her finger for emphasis. "Wouldn't you like me to take care of that?"

Her lover responds by kissing the finger held saucily in her face. Anna shudders, her eyes never leaving Elsa's face, as the blonde's tongue caresses her skin.

"Minx," breathes Anna.

Elsa's hit her stride now. She spares the panting woman beneath her a smirk, before turning her attention to her lover's very wet mound. Anna moans her need, her fingers tangling in Elsa's long blonde hair. Fingers toy with the entrance to Anna's womanhood, dancing nimbly in all the right places – but not enough to satisfy her need. She growls her displeasure, again thrusting her hips in desperate search for friction –

"Elsa!"

Elsa bites back a smirk. "What do you think you're doing, snowflake?" she purrs, withdrawing her hands. She runs a pink tongue down one fingertip, right where Anna can see her. The taste of her lover, coupled with the incredibly arousing sounds of frustration she's making, is filling her with self-confidence.

"Elsa – "

"I'm in charge." She returns to playing with Anna's breasts, alternately flicking and rubbing the hard nipples. "And I don't feel like being nice."

The redhead is almost crying in frustration at being left on the edge, unsatisfied. Elsa is enjoying the heady rush of power. "You may address me as Queen Elsa," she instructs, "and maybe I might help you." She punctuates her sentence with a knee pressed _right there_, and Anna's body writhes.

Anna's eyes are still glazed; but there's a sudden spark of mischief that Elsa doesn't see. Later on, Elsa would realize her mistake was in prolonging Anna's suffering, because she simply isn't the kind of girl who can wait. The redhead reaches up, yanking her lover's face down to hers, and whispers into her ear:

"Did you know my online username is FiestyPants?"

"Wait, what?"

It's too late. Anna grins, and before Elsa knows it, the leather panties are pulled down to her knees, and Anna's tongue is _there_; licking, teasing, and driving her to insanity. The tables are turned; now Elsa's mewling and panting, letting Anna take control. The redhead's tongue swirls over heated flesh, oh-so-delicately avoiding that raised pearl.

"Anna…" It's no longer a command, but a helpless whine, and Elsa knows she's gone.

"That's _Queen_ Anna to you," says Anna, and she takes Elsa with her fingers. She moans, unable to hold on to a single coherent thought, her body suffused with pleasure. Her hips thrust shamelessly against Anna's hand. But the moment she moves, the hand is withdrawn. "What's my title?" demands Anna, licking her fingers clean languorously.

It's a short but ferocious battle between Elsa's dignity, and the pulsing desire in her core.

"... Queen Anna..." Her face is red, and it's not because of their exertions. Anna smirks. "Good girl," she says triumphantly, rewarding her lover with a kiss, her tongue caressing the inside of Elsa's mouth. Just before the blonde can enjoy the kiss –

Fingers are thrust hard into her, and her cry of surprise is muffled against Anna's lips. The redhead pumps rhythmically, Elsa's body rocking with each movement, panting as the friction builds up –

"Anna!" Her back arches; every muscle trembles as waves of pleasure wash over her body.

The smug expression on Anna's face is quickly wiped off as Elsa seizes her opportunity to return the favour. "Let me help you, Your Majesty," she whispers, forcing away the boneless sensation of her body, pushing her lover on her back.

She's more than halfway there; Anna moans when Elsa's finger circles her clit. "I won't take it easy on you."

"Fuck _yes_."

* * *

Anna wakes up early on Saturday morning practically glowing. "That was amazing," she says. "You were amazing. We were amazing."

"You're also modest, and incredibly eloquent," grumbles Elsa sleepily, rolling on her side and trying to go back to sleep. But her lover has other ideas.

"Thank you for the lovely surprise." She kisses Elsa's cheek, and again on the lips when the blonde turns her head. Anna feels Elsa smile into the kiss, and she slips a little tongue in; it prompts a surprised noise from the blonde. "You can thank me by letting me sleep." Elsa stretches like a cat. Anna watches, fascinated, at the pale long limbs and the patchy sunlight playing on them. "God, I'm aching all over."

The redhead smirks. "Then I suppose you wouldn't say no to a little exercise?" she asks, her hands already wandering under the blanket. Elsa squirms.

"You're insatiable." But Anna's fingers have already found her crotch, teasing the patch of hair and still inching lower. Elsa bites her lip but it's too late. Anna's smile widens, her eyes following the hot flush spreading over Elsa's face and neck.

"You were saying?"

She takes her time to reply, gathering what little composure she has left. "I didn't know you posted to that forum," she says, changing the subject to take her mind off the heat pooling in her stomach. Anna shrugs, indifferent. "Sometimes. It takes the monotony out of the office."

Elsa bites back a giggle. "You wrote that at work?"

"Yup."

"You're terrible." She bats at Anna's hand; she withdraws it with a pout.

"Part of the thrill is not getting caught," she says with a devilish grin.

Elsa moves closer; partly to wrap her arms around her girlfriend, partly to allow herself better access to her girlfriend's legs. Her hand sneaks down Anna's belly, her finger drawing circles on the inside of Anna's thigh. "So what other fantasies have you written out? I haven't had the time to go through all the posts."

Anna leans into her lover's touch. "Well," she begins, her breathing becoming more rapid, eyes beginning to glaze, "there's this one where they fuck each others' brains out – _again_ – after a long night of amazing sex."

The blonde tuts. "Language."

"If you won't stop teasing me and _get on with it_, you'll have a lot more to worry about than my language," threatens the redhead.


End file.
